


Faith and Trust

by Val_Creative



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angsty Schmoop, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic, Blood, Curses, M/M, Presumed Dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-15 01:20:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3432803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin notices something odd is happening the day he passes out, without warning, in the middle of a conversation with Elyan and face-first into dung. (In which Merlin's magic works like Tinker Bell--so when Arthur says he doesn't believe, he dies.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Faith and Trust

**Author's Note:**

> For anon's request: "May I please request a merthur fic where Merlin's magic works like Tinker Bell's where his magic is his lifeline + if people don't believe in magic, he'd die? I was wondering if you could write something where Merlin's magic is slowly fading every time Arthur says he doesn't believe in magic but Arthur doesn't notice it till it's too late and Merlin's bedridden and dies in his arms but when Arthur sheds tears for him and finally proclaims he believes in magic, Merlin comes back to life?"
> 
> DEANONING FOR MERLICFICDRIVETHRU AS FIC'S AUTHOR!

 

Merlin notices something odd is happening the day he passes out, without warning, in the middle of a conversation with Elyan and face-first into dung.

He brushes off Gaius’ stern expression, as he helps Merlin comb out the maggots from his dirtied hair.  _Dehydration_. Merlin drinks more water.

Except it’s not helping.

Arthur doesn’t notice anything either. He’s busy chewing with his mouth open and examining the plans for the siege towers, and complaining about Merlin. Doesn’t matter what it is, but it’s  _always_ Merlin’s fault.

"No, absolutely not—I refuse to believe some blood-curse would be the cause of the structure failing," he yells, repeating the same thing, beginning to scowl at the head mason. "You sound as  _ridiculous_ as Merlin over here.”

A surge of awful lightheadedness drops Merlin’s hand, his fingers automatically going limp as the jug of dark wine spills onto the floor. He sways towards the left, arm shooting out and slipping over Arthur’s desk. During this, the builder stares in outright shock, rooted in place as Arthur stands up, witness to Merlin’s faint as he sprawls onto the ground.

It’s not pain as much coursing through Merlin, into his veins and blood, slowing his heart, as it is a sense of  _loss_.

His magic feels… weak.

He groans in protest, leaning into the other man as Arthur dismisses the mason scurrying out and hoists Merlin up, carrying him onto his shoulder. "You’re useless like this, Merlin. Haven’t you been eating, you idiot?" Arthur tells him, climbing down a staircase and grunting. "You weigh like my pillows."

When Merlin doesn’t respond, head dangling, he rolls his eyes but quiets.

"What’s the matter with him?" Arthur asks, crossing his arms stiffly as Gaius looks Merlin’s sallow features over, holding Merlin’s wrist closely.

"That remains to be seen," he answers. Gaius’ eyes peer over, and Arthur’s upper lip curls, exasperated. "Has he been exerting himself as of late?"

"Merlin’s as lazy as they come." The exasperation trickles out of him at the dark look from his physician. "Nothing I’m aware of," he corrects himself.

"He’s displaying worrisome symptoms, sire."

A pocket of dread forms in the back of Arthur’s throat.

"… Such as?"

"Symptoms of a man dying," Gaius tells him. "His body seems to be shutting down. His breathing is shallow and his skin is cool." Arthur’s face scrunches up in disbelief, head giving a little shake. It’s not true.

The older man goes silent a moment, thoughtful, before shaking his head as well. “Merlin,” he says as a reprimanding, down at the prone body.

"What is it, Gaius?"

"Merlin has—"

Arthur snaps, eyes heated. “Yes, I already know about his bloody magic—I now know you’ve been keeping it a secret as well.” For once, it appears  _he’s_  startled Gaius.  ”What has this got to do with it?”

"Perhaps it  _is_  to do with magic, sire.”

"I am at my wit’s end about this!" The fury inside Arthur breaks apart—not about his siege plans, maybe not entirely about Merlin’s lies, but this feeling of helplessness as Merlin just  _doesn’t_ move or talk to him. “I don’t want to hear about magic ever again, Gaius! Am I understood?”

That’s why Merlin coughs himself awake, ruby-coloured blood bubbling out of his mouth and expelling from his lungs in a thin gush.

It’s a death-rattle if Arthur’s ever heard it and nothing matters right now. None of it. What does matter is turning Merlin onto his side, physically getting his hands on him and  _helping_  him up. “Merlin, don’t.” The words leave Arthur’s lips, croaking, unable to bury his emotion. “Don’t do this, not here.”

It’s already done, he thinks. The blood is warm and fresh, but Merlin’s skin is icy against Arthur’s fingertips. His eyes already drooped shut.

"Merlin." Arthur says, breathing hard and more frantic than he realises, half pulling his friend into his lap on the cot. "Merlin, you can’t die. You can’t. You have magic. You are  _not_  this useless, please—”

He yelps, letting go of Merlin’s arm. He’s  _burning_  up.

And… glowing?

No, it’s not Merlin. The very air glows around both of them. It’s an eerie, luminous yellow, shaped into tiny, hovering fragments like flakes of snow.

Merlin’s eyes blinking open glow the same, swirling and swirling endlessly.

"Why am I thirsty?" he announces, oddly calm. Despite his voice thick with congealing blood from his mouth and nose.

"You have magic," Arthur says, softly, as if it holds all the answers.

Merlin’s grin is the best response.

 

 


End file.
